


5 Senses

by Tarlan



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack remembered so much about Ianto, but couldn't quite capture the memory of scent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Senses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for _mmom_ 2011 Day 7

He knew The Doctor meant well by introducing Jack to Alonso and though the sex was as good as ever, he knew it was just that--sex. It had never been just sex with Ianto, although Jack had successfully fooled himself for a time. Gwen has said he could turn a straight man gay, and that's what he thought he had done with Ianto but the truth was really the kind of cliche found in old romantic novels. He had turned Ianto gay for him--and no other. He had never once seen Ianto look at another man with anything more than a frown, as if trying to work out why the thought of sex with another man held no appeal and yet was everything when it was with Jack.

Jack had felt that way too.

He'd tried everything he could think of over his long life--including things that would have shocked Ianto. He tried toe-curling sex with just about any species; he had experimented with sex and pleasure enhancing drugs and technology, even let his partner of the time beat him mercilessly and choke him to death as they fucked. None of it had compared to plain old vanilla sex with Ianto.

Alonso had sneaked Jack into his cabin on-board a ship heading out of the sector but had left earlier to take up his shift, leaving Jack alone and naked in a bed that reeked of semen and male sweat. Jack could smell himself but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find a trace of Ianto's unique and intoxicating scent. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel and taste Ianto, but the scent of Alonso overpowered the memory. With sudden desperation, needing to cleanse the room of all scents, Jack stripped off the sheets and threw everything, covers included, into the refresher unit. He stepped into the personal refresher, letting the cleansing pulses strip the scent of Alonso from his skin and hair, before returning to the small cabin and making the bed.

The fresh sheets beneath him carried no scent, and Jack closed his eyes, drawing back his memory of Ianto. He heard his voice once more, with his wicked humor and infectious laugh...soft, melodic tones that rolled over Jack. He remembered Ianto's hands, always so quick and sure, skin tingling as it brought back tactile memories of soft lips and warm skin, and of finger pads tracing patterns across Jack's chest after they made love. Memories of kisses brought back the taste of Ianto's skin, and the sweet taste of his lips--always minty fresh, always prepared like a Boy Scout.

Jack laughed softly at the memory, feeling the first stirring of pleasure as if ghost hands were caressing his skin.

He could see him, hear him, taste and feel him now, and Jack held tight to those senses as he wrapped his hand around his hardening cock. He could feel his nerve endings firing with pleasure, desire growing with each stroke, bringing back those mewling cries and soft words of passion. His skin remembered the gentle caress tightening to a hard grip as Jack pushed inside Ianto, the squeeze of his legs around Jack's thighs, of his ass around Jack's cock.

The scent memory hit him all at once, and Jack surged into his own hand, come splattering across his belly and chest as he held onto Ianto one last time.

By the time Alonso returned, Jack was smiling brightly and laughing playfully...and if Alonso noticed the red rims of his eyes, he said nothing.

END


End file.
